Digital Hell
by The Mysterious One1
Summary: Certainly Dante has gone to Hell several times but after checking out an odd job offer he soon learns that there's more than one kind of Hell.... The rise in technology made certain of that. Rated for language and mild violence, warning: spoilers galore
1. Prologue

Gunslinger. Swordmaster. Royal Guard. Trickster. Four styles he used in his fights, switching to whatever suited the situation the best. At this point, there weren't any decisive motives to show which he should settle on so he went on default, gunslinger. Guns at the ready was his usual style if he didn't know what else to do. Though just because he was ready to fire off his guns didn't mean they had to be in his hands. Gunslinger implied more than just running around firing off rounds at enemies. It spoke of the quick draw. The slapping of fingers against metal as hands clamped around the handles, sliding the two weapons out of their holsters with a flair of tossing a piece of paper from a pocket, as if discarding it. However, he never let go of his precious Ebony and Ivory. In fact, despite his rough handling of the two weapons, he knew that they could take whatever he asked of them. They were built for him, custom made. And out of all his previous engagements with guns, these two never gave out on him. The old lady, as he often called her, knew how to make guns, that was for sure.

A shadow of a smile fleeted on his lips at the thought of Goldstein before he scanned the dark room and its decaying guts. In some ways the setting was just like that of his other jobs, and in others, it swung onto the opposite side of the spectrum. The smell definitely was similar. The place reeked of stale air and mold. Made him wonder if air from outside ever made its way in. "Damn, I can't smell even straight. How the heck does he even live in a dump like this?" he muttered. Not caring what the man would say about it later, Dante flung Ebony out and shot a few consecutive rounds at the nearest window. If he was gonna be made to wait in this forsaken place, then dammit he was going to get some air he could actually live off of!

He lowered the gun, not really looking at his handiwork. The formerly cracked window had shattered under the barrage of bullets, letting in a welcomed breeze. It's what the guy got for making him come to this trash heap to get details for a job Dante would probably turn down anyway. "How'd he sucker me into this," he breathed. Normally he didn't take such calls. Then again, he never really got these kinds of calls. He received a job, though it didn't always turn out to be as straight forward as the original details suggested. However, expecting the unexpected wasn't a foreign concept in his line of work. He just found it annoying to not know what kind of crap he'd have to put up with.

Thinking back, it had been the manner of speech the man possessed that piqued Dante's interest. Though Dante had muttered aloud to no one in particular that he was only going because he was bored out of his mind. To anyone who knew him, this would seem out of character. He had his rules when it came to choosing jobs but today he blew them out of the window long enough to see what kind of job he'd lugged himself out into the middle of nowhere to find. "This whole thing better not be just a waste of my time."

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll find it to be quite interesting."

Dante turned to see who greeted him, finally able to match the voice from over the phone with a face. The man before him looked… well, half of what he was expecting really. He was partially stooped over, one hand resting over the top of a cane. Yet he stood straight enough that there was an air of dignity and pride about him. His black hair was peppered with grey and was cropped close to his head, making him look younger than he sounded considering how raspy his voice was. He wore a light button-up dress shirt and a pair of slacks with suspenders. Nothing too fancy and yet the guy managed to make it still somewhat formal. It seemed at odds with the house the man had chosen to take up residence in. If this was indeed his house. Maybe this was nothing more than a place for them to meet. There was no way for Dante to know, nor did he really care.

"So, Gramps, what about this is so interesting?"

The man just smiled at him and stepped closer, Dante realizing that the cane was merely an accessory. His gate was solid and he had no need to lean on it to prevent himself from stumbling. "Hmmm…" the man looked him over, his thoughtful exhale sounding more like the sigh of a great, old beast grunting to get up rather than the consideration he was obviously giving him. The next thing Dante knew was, there was a needle sticking in his neck, the man's hand withdrawing the syringe. He hadn't even seen the geezer shove it unceremoniously into his skin, much less feel the prick of the needle until it was too late.

"The hell?!" Dante stumbled back a little, leveling a gun on the man, holding where the needle had gone in with the other hand.

The man continued that smile of his. "For this particular job, you have to give up the physical body and entrust it to me." The man's image seemed to waver in front of Dante's eyes. He tried squinting; hoping for his sight to clear but it did him little good. "You needn't worry about it. You only need to focus on your mind and your spirit. Where you're going, I have little control over those things."

Dante shook his head a little, to help him focus, all the while keeping his gun trained on the man. "Mind cluing me in on what you're talking about? And while you're at it, explain that drug you just shot me up with!"

"You'll be in a coma…. within several seconds." It was the only answer Dante got before he fell to one knee.

Stubbornly, he struggled to fend off the impending darkness that edged his line of sight and made his thoughts and body sluggish and unwilling to obey his commands. "-The hell are you… doing to me…" With a sigh, he slumped forwards and collapsed onto the floor.

The man stepped over and took the weapon from Dante's limp hand, putting it next to its twin gun in the holster strapped to his back. He worked quickly, picking him up and taking him to a room just down the hall. There a bed waited, along with a computer and a head mounted display, which looked very much like a thin, light-weighted visor. The rest of the room was empty. He placed Dante on the bed and settled the HMD over the unconscious man's eyes. He then leaned over and with one hand dancing across the keyboard, signed onto the MMPORPG which he intended to trap Dante in.

He smiled as the page loaded. "Welcome to The World, Demonslayer_999."

Author's note: Okay, yeah. Kinda a cliché and loophole filled introduction. Lol! But I seriously couldn't help myself. I just liked the way this thing starts out. I'm not sure exactly how this story will end, exactly but I've an idea of where this goes next.

By the way, you don't have to be familiar with .hack or with DMC to actually enjoy this story. Or at least I'm hoping to make it like that. If you're a part of the fandom for one but not the other, well, like I said, doesn't matter. I was originally thinking of sticking Final Fantasy 7 in here as well, but that… is still up to debate… I'm not sure how that'd work. Eh. I probably won't, lol. We'll see.

Till next time!


	2. Preface of Memories The Shadow's Master

Chapter One – His Preface of Memories; Meeting the Shadow's Master

There were rules when it came to choosing jobs.

1. Content. What the job entailed.

2. No unnecessary bloodshed.

3. Intuitiveness. The job had to strike some cord in him.

He'd stuck to them, stubbornly for the most part and though no one really could understand the ways of the mercenary, Dante, then known as Tony, didn't care. It wasn't really that important for them to know those things. He was notorious, and he always got the money he needed from the jobs his middleman handed him. He had to, in order to pay off his ever existing debts. Before the creation of Ivory and Ebony, he was constantly wearing out his guns and had to go to Goldstein to get them refitted or replaced. Then there was the fact that his favorite red leather coat managed to find more bullet holes in it than the silver talismans and charms he usually decorated it with. It got to be a costly business.

The three rules were the only weight he used when it came to deciding on whether to take a job or not. Or… they had been. The rules were different now. Tainted, in a way, for the words didn't change. It was the eyes that viewed them that had changed. So many things had happened as time spun its wheels and Tony soon became aware of his heritage, and was awakened from a deep sleep of ignorance. No, not ignorance. It had been a sort of self-imposed amnesia.

He was Dante. The half-breed. The son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda, the demon who had turned against his own kind for the sake of humanity. His human mother was dead, killed by demons, as was his twin brother. Or so he thought. He learned belatedly that he'd survived. How, he didn't know. But he'd come back into his life with an oath to gain power on his lips. They fought, their battle taking them to Hell but at the end Vergil had a strange change of heart. He'd forced Dante to return to the human realm, intending to go after Mundus, the king of the Underworld himself. The return trip stripped Dante of something and in that moment he'd become the man known only as Tony Redgrave.

Inevitably, his past would not remain in the past. He found himself face-to-face with a man of undeniable power. He fought him. And then he'd killed him, not realizing until the very end of their fight the identity of his opponent. When the bandages that masked the man's face fell away, Dante found himself staring at a mirror image. The proof of the man's identity hung around his neck in the form of an amulet to which Dante wore the twin of. He grappled with the truth, screaming why he had such things in his possession. But acceptance came like a death toll, starting out as a small voice telling him that his opponent had been Vergil, growing into a feeling that seeded a deep, lasting sorrow.

Fate, it seemed, had a way of giving him bloody births.

~ ---'-- ~*~ --'--- ~

The man in slacks smiled as he watched the screen change and his creation logged onto the delta server's root town Mac Anu. In The World, it was the place for beginners and although in all technicalities Demonslayer_999 was at level one he knew Dante wouldn't behave in such a manner. Certainly the young man would wander around, stumbling over the terms and the new reality he would find himself in but then he thrived on the unexpected and would learn the rules quickly enough. Dante would come to appreciate the hacked character he'd made for him. He would have use of his beloved guns and sword while still abiding by most of the rules of The World. Most of them, because, after all his was a hacked character. On top of that, Dante wasn't a full blooded human. His soul was half demon.

"Everything seems to be working so far. Don't take too long in there." Though he really wasn't worried. Dante would find the threat that meant to strike out at the real world. After all, he carried some of the threat within his own body and in turn, his soul. He was nothing more than a shining beacon. Danger would come to him like a magnet.

---'-- ~*~ --'---

Dante felt the presence of unexplainable warmth around him. It had come to him a little after the engulfing darkness forced him to abandon his senses. Not that he had a choice in the matter what with that drug in his system. The warmth continued to circle him from his toes to his head, coaxing him into opening his eyes. Without thinking much of it, he complied.

He was no longer in that forsaken mansion, but in a place that looked like a cross between a cathedral and a guild shop. Directly in front of him was a short pathway leading up to a set of double doors. To the right and left of this path were what looked to be two shops, with some rather weird looking shopkeepers. They were short and fat, practically little balls with bell shaped sleeves for arms. Each had huge hats on that forced their faces into darkness. Not that there was much to see of their faces anyway, besides a set of glowing eyes staring out eerily at their customers. If Dante could say he knew anything about girls, he'd venture they'd squeal and say that they were cute. If he hadn't been through Hell, he'd say they were creepy.

A glance around revealed nothing of the old geezer but there were other people there. They stood off to the side of the space he currently occupied. Everyone was dressed oddly, with tattoos decorating their bodies. Some of them were looking his direction. He only pretended to ignore them for the time being. "Hey! Old man!" he called, stepping forwards with his arms outstretched in a demanding shrug. "Where'd you go? I thought you said we had an engagement." He turned on his heel, coat flaring out slightly with the movement.

Dante paused at the sight before him; several glowing orbs floating in the middle of an ever spinning metal ring, which was held up by a pole. His hands dropped to his sides. Maybe that was his ticket out of here. Or a way further into this alternate reality he'd found himself in. He didn't know what else to consider this place. He could hardly make heads or tails of it. Yet there was no denying the sense that 'not all was right with the world', as the saying went. "Guess I'll just have to take my chances."

He made to step forwards only to stop again. A small light came out of the floating orbs then froze in front of him. Swirling trails of light spun to the floor from the little light and as it went a person formed. When it was completed, a young man decked in yet another strange outfit stood before him. It had to be the strangest of all the outfits he'd seen so far. It consisted mostly of white. His shirt was form fitting and trailed off like a swallow's tail in the front, revealing his bellybutton. A decorated belt held ornamental armor on his hips. They appeared to leave him room a plenty for movement. His black gloves went halfway up his upper arms, leaving his shoulders bare. They consisted partially of many mini-belts, with white cuffs that flared out midway up his forearm much like his shirt. Unlike his shirt, his pants were loose and tucked in beneath ornamental boots, whose design matching his hip armor. Then there was the odd contraption he had behind his neck. It made him look like he had rays of the sun sprouting from him. Like the other people he'd seen, the man had tattoos. He had red, sideways triangles on his cheeks right underneath his eyes. They pointed inwards like a play button on one side and its mirrored image on the opposing cheek. On his shoulders were red sprockets. His hair was silvery-white and a little longer than Dante's own, lying flat against the sides of his face whereas in the back it flared out.

The newcomer opened his eyes, for he'd had them closed and his gold met Dante's blue-green. The two of them stared at each other. Neither spoke. It was in that instant that Dante got the oddest feeling. There was a darkness hovering protectively over this peculiarly dressed man but at the same time there was a hidden strength.

"Can I help you with something?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I suppose you wouldn't mind telling me where I am would you?" Dante inquired.

"You're in Mac Anu. The root town for the delta server."

"Sorry, none of that rings a bell."

The other gave him an incredulous smirk. "It's where all noobs sign in for their first times when playing." His eyes did a one over Dante, studying him and making a quick assessment. "Did you even read your manual before signing on?"

This guy was speaking gibberish. What? Was he in some kind of game all of the sudden? "Sorry," he half shrugged, "Guess I decided to forgo the directions."

---'-- ~*~ --'---

Haseo frowned. Demonslayer apparently didn't care much for reading before playing. Not that he should talk, since he'd done the same thing when he first started playing The World. Though, back then, he hadn't planned on sticking with the game. His decision to join had been on a mere whim. The first excuse he found to not play, he told himself he would delete the game from his hard drive and sell the discs at some pawnshop or used game store. At least that had been the plan. Things hadn't quite worked out that way. For some reason he had kept playing.

Haseo could sense Skeith smirking but he couldn't tell what the smirk was for. Nor could he ask. Not with Demonslayer_999 right in front of him. As if that thought reminded Skeith of the noob, the avatar went back to studying Demonslayer. He'd been doing that ever since Haseo first laid eyes on the character dressed in red. He seemed fairly interested in him and had only stopped appraising him to smirk briefly, before the expression faded and his appraisal continued, more intense than before. Haseo suppressed a shudder at the concentration he felt wafting off of Skieth. The avatar never stared at someone like this before.

Demonslayer was obviously new to The World, and yet his character was clearly hacked. Haseo had never seen an adept rogue dressed like this guy. It was true that adept rogues weren't all that popular, considering how hard it was to level them up but he knew enough of what an adept rogue newbie looked like to tell that the guy was not one of them. Not with that outfit.

Haseo briefly wondered what it was that made this man choose the class he did. He had to have chosen the hardest one. There were eleven classes in all. Blade Brandiers, Edge Punishers, Twin Blades, Flick Reapers, Lord Partizans, Tribal Grapplers, Macabre Dancers, Harvest Clerics, Shadow Warlocks, and Steam Gunners; each specialized in one or two things. Blade Brandiers were your basic swordsmen. Edge Punishers were the next step up, wielding large swords. Twin blades were almost like the ninjas of The World due to their speed and agility, wielding two short swords, hence their name. Flick Reapers tended to wield scythes and large axes but were lousy with long ranged opponents. Lord Partizans wielded lances and had the best defense of all the classes. Tribal Grapplers were your basic street fighters, depending solely on their fists. Macabre Dancers were very balanced magic users and also used fans as weapons. Harvest Clerics were best at supporting magic, dealing very little physical damage with their staffs and Shadow Warlocks preferred offensive magic while using their book of spells called a Grimoire. Steam Gunners were the gunslingers of The World and had some of the best long ranged attacks.

Then… there was the Adept Rogues. It was the only class allowed to pick two to three different job professions to learn, aka, taking on the abilities of one of the other classes. But it meant working twice as hard, requiring more dedication since each job had to be leveled up individually. Plus, the adept rogue was often weaker at any given level verses someone at the same level from another class with the same job as the one the adept rogue was trying to master. It was one of the reasons they were known as the 'jack of all trades but master of none'. Of course, being weaker didn't necessarily count as a weakness. They were after all the most flexible of all the classes. They were named what they were for a reason. Adept, because of their ability to adapt to most situations. Rogue, because they didn't belong to any of the other classes.

At the time, when Haseo had first joined The World, he'd chosen the adept rogue because he wanted two things: Power and adaptability. The first took work to earn; the second was a little easier. He had managed to get to each of the limited time only missions known as Job Extensions, in which adept rogues were able to earn their second and third jobs they'd chosen to learn when they first created their characters. The time in between the job extensions had also given him a chance to level up the jobs he already had under his belt.

Looking at this Demonslayer_999 person, Haseo figured him to be pretty cocky. Maybe it was that cocky attitude that made him chose an adept rogue for a class. But would a guy like that listen to his warnings if he gave them? Probably not. Demonslayer didn't seem like the kind of person who would keel over to someone's orders just because they said they were for his safety. Especially since the suggestion was from someone who obviously lacked authority. Haseo had no ties to the administration that governed the game, except through Pi and Yata, but even they didn't appear like members of importance. Most people were unwilling to listen to his warnings, but he gave them out anyway. Demonslayer was no exception.

"If you want my advice… Sign off. Now. And don't get back on. I can't explain things properly, but trust me; this game isn't something you want to be playing right now." Haseo hesitated for a moment but decided that what he had to say had its merit. After all, without some kind of initiative or reason, Demonslayer wasn't going to sign off just 'cause he said for him to. With a near sigh, he went on. "Look, CC Corp probably didn't send you any e-mails to alert you to this but they just don't seem to get the clue that something is wrong with this game. It's not safe. I know it's hard to, coming from a complete stranger, but please believe me and stop playing. You're life could be in danger if you stayed."

It only occurred within a second but Haseo felt it for what seemed like a longer period of time, his thoughts picking up what Skeith wanted without even really thinking much about it. -Keep in contact with Demonslayer.- He could feel Skeith's claws dig into his shoulder, the avatar still staring at Demonslayer. Well, feel him claw him wasn't quite the right description. It was more like he felt the avatar's desire digging into his consciousness and he could imagine him taking it out on his shoulder. Just like saying that Skeith was hovering over his shoulder wasn't an accurate description but rather that he hovered in his forethoughts. Both descriptions were the best metaphors his mind could come up with so that his brain could deal with the secondary consciousness that now dwelt within his head.

"Here." Haseo reached out with a hand as if to give Demonslayer something. "My member address. You can contact me with it while you're here."

---'-- ~*~ --'---

Haseo. It was the name that appeared in Dante's thoughts the moment that guy gave him his member address, whatever that was. And with it a sense of being connected to that white clad stranger in a way that was more than merely knowing the guy's name. It was an unusual feeling and it made Dante a little uneasy. Being uneasy didn't sit well with him. Never did. "Ah hell," he breathed.

Dante crossed his arms over his chest and scrutinized the other with a raised eyebrow and drawn back head. "Okay, let's hold the phone. You're telling me we're in some kind of game?" He scoffed and let his arms fall to his sides in a shrug as he started to turn away. "Sorry buddy, but I don't recall ever signing onto any game." He then laughed a short, humorless laugh, and shook his head. "Man… what kind of crap did that old geezer shoot me up with? Must have been quite the hallucinate. Damn. What kind of stunt is he trying to pull anyway?" he muttered to himself.

The guy in white, Haseo had to be his name, Dante decided, gave him the oddest look. His words seemed to have thrown him for a loop. "You're not hallucinating. You've logged onto a massive multiplayer RPG called The World. You're-"

"Don't you need computers for that sort of thing? Look kid, I'm nowhere near a computer. I don't touch the things."

That Haseo stopped short.

Dante turned towards the glowing orbs. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm outta here."

---'-- ~*~ --'---

Haseo watched as Demonslayer_999 warped out of Mac Anu, his form taken up in strings of light before disappearing into the Chaos Gate, headed towards who knew where. -Now you know why I find him so fascinating.- Came the familiar but typically arrogant voice in Haseo's mind.

"Skieth."

-Don't act so surprised. I used to be a program once. That doesn't mean I'm out of touch with my surroundings just because I am now you.-

"I was wondering why you were so insistent that I give him my member address. What were you thinking?"

-Easy. Fidchell's prophecy.-

"Prophecy? I thought that one was already fulfilled half a year ago!"

-Not that one.-

"You mean…"

Skeith just laughed in his mind.

_Ding._

Haseo looked up at the alert and read the flash message. It was from Pi.

Come to the Serpent of Lore. We need to talk.

Short and to the point. That usually meant one of two things: something had gone wrong, or she had an important update. Or both. He decided not to waste any more time and sensing Skeith still smirking, he headed straight for the warp point located outside the domed building. He teleported to the mercenary district and walked the rest of the way to the guild doors. From the list of guilds that appeared once he'd accessed the doors he chose Raven. That name however, was just a codename to make it appear like a normal guild. The guild's real name was G.U. though no one ever told him what those two letters stood for. Only Yata, the guild's founder, seemed to know. But after being a part of it for almost half a year, it didn't matter to Haseo anymore. What the guild did was far more important than its name.

Haseo couldn't remember when it was originally created. It'd been around for a little more than a year from the sound of things. He hadn't been a part of it when it was first founded, nor did he bother to ask.

It was almost half a year ago when he'd been recruited. At the time, he wasn't interested in being ordered around by Pi and her master Yata. He'd been too preoccupied with a search for what he'd thought was a player killer, or PK. PKs were players who took out other people's characters without really caring about the other person's feelings, most of the time. And so, when he thought he saw a strange looking character kill off a girl whom he'd come to care very much for, he'd become obsessed with gaining power in order to take that PK out.

Pi and Yata offered him a chance to awaken a sleeping power within his character, one he didn't know even existed. For that reason alone he begrudgingly obeyed the orders he was given. It had been a long road, finding the power and how to control it, gaining friends, and then finally discovering the horrible truth. The identity of Tri-Edge, the PK who took out his beloved Shino, was the very person he trusted the most. The character he thought was the culprit turned out to be nothing more than an AI who was only trying to protect The World from the true Tri-Edge.

He'd been forced to destroy his closest friend in order for The World to be reborn so that the virus that threatened it and its players would be wiped out. It had been a hard choice to make but he'd been coerced into doing it. Presently, he didn't know how that friend was doing. The last he heard, the guy had been in a coma. He hadn't heard of him in a while. But, he still hadn't given up on searching for him. He'd even gone so far as to ask Yata and Pi if they wouldn't mind trying to look him up using their contacts with CC Corp. He'd known it was a delicate thing to ask since CC Corp wasn't keen on giving out private information on their customers, but Haseo had to try and the two promised they'd see what they could do.

Haseo stepped into the main room. Atoli was kneeling in front of the guild's grunty, a miniature version of the guild's founder only with the face of a cow. It was kind of humorous really. Grunties were NPCs that served as the guild's caretakers of sorts. Haseo paused for a moment, the image of her reminding him of Shino for a brief moment.

As if sensing she was being looked at, Atoli turned. "Oh, hello Haseo," she said as she smiled and stood. "The others are already in the Serpent of Lore."

"So you were waiting for me here?" he blinked.

"Um... I was just directing everyone to go ahead into the back room." She turned her back on him and started up the stairs, heading down the hall that led to the darkened room where the Serpent of Lore was located. The shyness in her tone wasn't lost on Haseo, despite her attempt to hide it. /What's she so nervous about?/ He scratched his head then followed her.

It appeared they were the last two to enter. Everyone else was there. Endrance, a tall, graceful man with long purple hair and a soft voice who'd sworn undying devotion to Haseo. Sakubo, a kid whose player had a split personality. From the way Sakubo was standing, Haseo realized it was Saku, the 'sister' who was here today. Kuhn, a man who had a thing for the ladies and one of the first to join G.U. alongside Haseo. Then of course there was Pi and Yata.

"This must be pretty big," Haseo commented.

Yata nodded from his place at the Serpent of Lore's controls. He was frowning gravely, arms crossed over his chest. He meant business, as usual. "It's a delicate matter that I felt would be better explained face to face. I'd contacted Zelkova concerning this already but he said Atoli would be his ambassador in his place."

"Okay, so what's this about?"

Author's note: This chapter was going to have more in it, like the meeting, a battle scene for Dante, and then the description of Demonslayer's appearance…. However, I still need to iron out those details better and I didn't want to have this sitting on my computer too much longer. I'd given myself a deadline and today's the day. So here you go, chapter one!

Okaykies, for those of you who are .hack fans, this takes place right after the G.U. trilogy. For those of you who are DMC fans, this takes place between DMC3 and DMC, or rather, if you've read the novels, several years after the final battle between Dante and Vergil but before the epilogue (since that's like the beginning of the game, lol). So Dante is like 24, give or take a few years.

There are a lot of plot holes within the DMC series, so I'm taking liberties in explaining things in a way that I hope makes sense. I have changed some things as well to make it work, but tried to keep to the original story-line as much as possible. I haven't watched the anime yet, so I apologize if some of what I write still lacks in certain details.

To Saphira – Thanks for the comment! I wasn't expecting to get one so soon after posting. That really made my day when I saw it.

To SageofAges – Yeah, it's quite a x-over I know. I was thinking it was an odd one, but boy do I have ideas for this. And since this is the first of its kind (that I know of) I hope to make it a good one. As for who the 'old geezer' is? Well… At first he was supposed to be an original character but your comment has given me better ideas…. -Grins mischievously-


	3. Childhood Respect He Who is Obsessed

Chapter Two – Childhood Respect; He Who is Obsessed

A glory seeking, young demon had set out to destroy a long living tribe of demon slayers but he was defeated. Instead of killing him or sending him back to Hell, his powers were sealed away and he was forced to live among them as a human.

Over time he came to care for them and even respect them. The villagers saw his change of heart and so when he asked to help them fight off demons they worked with him, eventually releasing his powers .

He grew stronger, learning to hone his powers with precision until he was five times his original strength. With such strength came fear from the humans. So more often than not he hid such powers away unless they were necessary. But the fear persisted.

Then a great threat hung over the human world as the demon king, Mundus announced his desire to take it over. What ensued was a huge war that spanned several years. Many of the tribesmen died as they defended their land. Their demon ally soon became their only hope. He battled tirelessly, eventually sealing away Mundus and all of his servants with the help of a tribeswoman.

In doing so, he sealed away all of his own powers. In doing so he kept the gateway into Hell shut. In doing so he became nothing but a human once more.

His actions however, did not go unnoticed. The honor and glory he'd wanted among his own kind he received instead from the humans. For a length of years following, he was well sought after for guidance and protection. But gradually he stepped back out of the public eye, until he finally seemed to have vanished completely and stories of his death became fact in their minds. What the humans did not know was that he had taken a human wife and that together they had twins…

~ ---'-- ~*~ --'--- ~

Unlike his fellow fifth graders, ten year old Dante was not looking forwards to his summer vacation. It meant a whole season stuck with stinky, noisy animals and spending long, hot hours sweating out under the sun. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. It was something he'd been trying to ignore all day. Earlier, he'd spent homeroom hour cleaning out the locker but at that time he'd been able to escape his inevitable drudgery by pretending he was just rearranging it for a new semester. He didn't have that luxury anymore. Standing there in front of his now empty locker there was no denying the reality that was crashing down on him. He was heading out to be a farmer's boy for yet another summer. "Greeeeat…" he groaned, letting the locker slam shut.

Dante shuffled over to his brother's locker and waited for him to show up so that they could head out together. However, after five minutes had gone by he knew Vergil had to have already gone ahead of him so he headed out and cut across the football field to get to the bus corral. Vergil didn't make it a habit to be late for anything. Their father's usual promptness must have rubbed off on him or something. Dante was a little more lax when it came to time constraints. It was the leading cause for Vergil's unwillingness to wait long for him. It wasn't because he was impatient. No. It was that he'd been patient one too many times. Because of Dante's habit for being late the twins had often missed their bus. Ten times too often, to be exact. Even his unusually patient brother had put his foot down after that.

"If you're not at my locker at least five minutes after class is out, then I'm going on ahead." That was what Vergil said after the tenth incident. And he kept to that statement. If Dante was even one minute late, well then too bad.

Vergil never missed the bus again.

Dante… well, he was better at getting his butt out the school doors at an earlier time now.

"Hey, albino."

A few kids stepped from the trees lining the football field, one of them hugging himself but trying to make it look like he was only crossing his arms over his chest. And all just because he was stupid enough to be wearing a t-shirt on this cold day. They'd been watching him as he drew nearer to their hangout. Dante knew every single one of them by name. Darwin the Dufus. Leo the Loser, that was the one with the t-shirt on. And then, last but not least Bernard the Bucktooth. He could tell from their smirks that they weren't there for idle chitchat. With the end of the year already upon them, they must have worked up the nerve to throw some real punches instead of the usual hurtful words they tossed his way. If they beat him up now and they just so happened to get caught, then they had all summer to 'repent' without fear of his retaliating. Not that they had much to fear of him. They were just cowards. Some things just never changed no matter what year it was.

He really didn't want to listen to what they had to say, nor did he want to put up with their sudden macho act. If it took these jerks all year just to get brave enough to come after him, just so that they wouldn't have to deal with the consequences, then he'd rather pretend they weren't there. He kept walking without acknowledging their hail.

"What?" Darwin sneered. "You finally gone deaf? I hear that happens to albinos. Some are even born that way."

"That's what happens with animals, not humans, Dufus," Dante muttered.

"What's that?"

Maybe he'd muttered it too loudly. But Dante found he suddenly didn't care. He was tired of all the harassment. Tired and ticked off. Dante drew up to his full height and spoke more loudly. "I said, at least blind people have better hearing than you do. I mean, the teacher's repeatedly calling your name out in class."

"Why you little," Darwin lurched forwards but Bernard shoved him, offsetting his balance and forcing the other boy to scramble to keep on his feet. "Hey! What's the big idea Nard?"

Bernard grinned, having gotten a wicked look in his eyes. "After all these years you still think you're somehow above us, huh? But I know where you spend your summers. You're nothing more than a hick who baths in animal crap!"

Dante snorted, hiding his surprise at this proclamation. He hadn't told anyone where he and his older brother spent their summers; mostly because he wasn't very proud of having to work on a farm. "At least I'm not afraid to get dirty. Unlike you. I bet if you so much as got dirt under a nail you'd scream like a girl, running for soap."

"I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty." Bernard glanced meaningfully at Leo and Darwin. The two caught onto the unsaid command, the first snickering, the second grinning widely as they circled to either side of Dante, leaving him with only one option. He'd have to fight to break free. If he tried shoving one of them aside to make a run for it, the other two would just grab him from behind. This was all of course if he did actually fight back. He never fought back. His father had taught him that a real man walked away from a fight instead of becoming a part of one.

Dante glanced at the three. He'd fallen for their little tricks by letting them get under his skin and now they were going to pummel him. But Dante wasn't nervous. He didn't even feel scared. In fact, he was psyched. This year, they were going to get one nasty surprise. This year, he was going to go against his father's advice, only to follow a different one he'd given. Choose your fights wisely.

"Scared?"

"Oh, am I shaking? Sorry to burst your bubble." He flashed a careless grin. "It's just that I'm getting excited."

"Cocky," Leo stated.

"I think he wants a beating," Darwin said, crouching low as if he was about to pounce Dante.

"Bring it!" Dante urged, waving his hands towards himself in a come-here manner.

"Heh!" Bernard sneered out of the corner of his mouth and launched himself, feet quickly eating up the little bit of earth between them, hand balling into a fist. The other two came at him from both sides, grabbing onto his arms and yanking him back so that he lost his balance. Bernard drew up his fist and brought it down with crashing accuracy, practically driving Dante to the ground if it hadn't been for the other two holding him, his head snapping off to the side due to the impact of the punch. Pain rippled through his jaw and in that instant his body remembered all he'd suffered under these boys and their blows in the past years. Leo and Darwin pulled him upright again so that Bernard could offer Dante another punch to the face. Their grip was strong and even if he tried to escape them Bernard's raining blows didn't really give him much of a chance.

He knew what would follow this barrage of punches and he wasn't looking forwards to it. But if he wanted to do something about that, he would first have to get Bernard to back off. It was only when there was a minor reprieve that an idea came to Dante and without pausing to really think on it, he went with it. Using the two boys who held him up as support, he launched a kick into Bernard's middle, causing him to double over. He instantly followed it up with his other foot as if climbing up him like a wall and shoved it into the larger boy's face with as much strength his legs could muster. Bernard's head snapped back as the rest of his body went flying, a trail of blood following after him as it squirted from his nose. His actions had made Dante completely off balanced and rather open but then for Leo and Darwin to do anything to him, they would first have to let him go. He realized this only as his legs came back to the ground but grinned like he knew it the whole time.

Leo and Darwin had stunned looks on their faces and as Dante watched Bernard slowly climb to his feet he felt a thrill run up from his core. This was his first taste of power over another person besides his brother and it felt…. Good!! "You know, that's a good look for you, Bucktooth."

Bernard's expression of pained surprise turned to anger, eyes narrowing. "Shove it, you little whitey," he snapped, his voice muffled as he held his bleeding and probably broken nose.

Feeling rather high and mighty, Dante kept taunting, lifting a foot. "Just tell me where you want me to shove it. Maybe that tooth of yours. Might improve the view some."

Bernard growled in defiance. "You'll pay for this you little squirt!"

"Well. What are you waiting for? I'm right here aren't I? Don't tell me you're gonna wait until next year just to teach me a lesson!"

Bernard glowered at him.

"You little punk! How dare you say we're cowards!" snarled Darwin.

Dante braced himself, waiting for Bucktooth's lackeys to start wailing on him.

"Three on one? I hardly call those fair odds."

Dante looked up at the familiar voice. There stood a boy who mirrored his own appearance, from a white head of hair down to the blue eyes. The only major differences were that he wore a blue hoodie versus Dante's own t-shirt and mock-turtleneck combo. And although their eyes were the same color, the newcomer's held a dignified pride that looked odd on someone so young.

"Vergil?" Dante wasn't expecting him there at all. He thought he was already on the bus, waiting to be taken home.

"I seem to recall you coming home at the end of every school year with unexplained bruises." He frowned at Dante with disapproval. His gaze rested on the three bullies. "I should have known it was you three."

"Great… now both of the freak brothers are here…" Darwin muttered under his breath. Leo looked to Bernard, wondering what they should do now.

"Let him go," Bernard commanded, jerking his head in annoyance, still holding his nose. The two obeyed, shuffling over to their ring leader's side, keeping weary eyes on the brothers.

At first Dante was surprised that they were willing to back down so quickly; and just because someone else had shown up. The feeling didn't last long though as anger at this injustice welled up in its place.

"Hey! I was gonna take them down!" Dante complained, sorely disappointed that his fight was being interrupted. He felt cheated.

"And you've already missed the bus," Vergil returned without leaving any room for argument, meeting Dante's gaze with a meaningful stare. "We'll have to call Dad now, to come pick us up." With that said, he turned and started walking away, as if that alone would get Dante to follow him.

Dante glared after him, hating how he was treating him, ordering him around and expecting him to listen without retaliating. It was like he was pretending to be his father or something. But Vergil knew his twin well and Dante begrudgingly obeyed. "Hey, Dufus, Bucktooth, Loser. Next year we'll have ourselves a real party, so let's not forget the invitations. See ya!"

As they walked away to find a phone, Vergil let out a sigh. "Dante. That was really dumb. You shouldn't let what they say get to you. Besides," a small, knowing smile flickered on his face. "I thought you hated the farm."

Dante opened his mouth to begin defending himself but Vergil's last statement sent him for a loop. "Huh?" He blinked dumbly, totally confused. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"They were badgering me about it earlier but since they were unable to get a rise out of me, I figured they took it up with you."

"They started to. Called me a hick and stuff."

"You should have walked away."

"Yeah, and you know where that always gets me," Dante muttered sorely. "Nowhere except becoming a bloody pulp. What about you? What'd you do?" He grinned mischievously, "Give 'em the death glare?" What Dante called Vergil's death glare was nothing more than a steady stare. His eyes had a strange intensity to them and not many could hold his gaze without turning away. It gave a lot of people the creeps.

"You could say that. There is more than one way to defend the farm, after all. Not all defenses involve violence."

"You're starting to sound like Dad. Besides… I know you hate the farm too. You pretend you don't but you think it's as stupid as I do."

"I can't argue that. But I respect Father's desire to farm, so I don't speak out against it."

"Yeah, something about how refreshing it is to take care of and watch lives growing up in strength. Or… something like that," he finished lamely. It was a rough translation of the explanation Sparda had given them.

"Yeah." Vergil smiled in agreement. "Something like that."

~ ---'-- ~*~ --'--- ~

After reaching out and activating the floating colored orbs, Dante felt the warmth and light surrounding him again. It was an odd, yet strangely comforting sensation and for the briefest moment he didn't want it to end. He almost wished he could have been stuck in the wonderful sense of emptiness and weightlessness forever. It was as if this was a place where he might actually find peace at last. It was so unlike the emptiness he'd known throughout his life in that it was a completing emptiness, and not the gaping holes that had marred his soul. But as much as he longed for it, the peace was short lived and it faded away, the warmth and light going with it. He found himself not in the old man's house like he'd intended but rather in the middle of a grassy field.

Dante shoved aside the disappointment that tugged at him and put up the defensive armor around his heart once more, some part of him resigned to the fact that he'd never know the peace he longed for. "Definitely not in Kansas," he quipped under his breath, glancing around. There was a metal pole behind him. At its top was a pulsating green sphere encircled in metal strips. That had to have been how he got here. He made a mental note of it for the time being and kept looking about. "Damn. How am I supposed to get to the geezer's?"

He began to wander, figuring there had to be some sort of teleportation device or hidden gateway around somewhere that would take him back. Unless of course this was all some kind of hallucination and it really didn't matter where he went. Then he might as well just stay still until it passed. But the fact was he'd given up on that possibility. This place seemed too real, and not to just his five senses, but a sense that lay much deeper than any human's. So he kept searching.

The field where he found himself turned out to be nothing more than an island in the middle of an ocean. At the center of the island was a hill. Climbing it gave him a better view of his surroundings. To one end of the island was a bridge, which led to what appeared to be yet another island. But this island held several weird looking creatures, short, squat beings which stood on two feet. They seemed to be patrolling different corners of the island and none had noticed him yet. He studied them for a moment, trying to figure out what they were. It was the fact that they weren't giving off any demonic energy despite their appearances that gave him reason pause. They looked almost like goblins, actually, now that he thought about it.

He couldn't see any other possible ways off the islands, except maybe the few chests scattered around the island guarded by the patrolling creatures. Then of course there was the sphere that had brought him here. Dante was extremely tempted to go after the guards, some inner recklessness urging him on. He reached for his guns but stopped. "You don't know where you are, idiot. They don't even smell like demons." His hands fell back to his sides. Despite their appearances, he wasn't going to be responsible for the death of innocents if they turned out to be normal people. Well, not normal, but they weren't demons at any rate.

He decided to attempt talking to one of them, if they even spoke the same language as he. If it proved fruitless then he was just going to go back to the teleporting sphere. As he approached a group they suddenly all turned, letting out little squeaks of warning and before he knew it they raised their short swords against him. "Whoa, hold it! I'm not here to-"

They charged at him, one making an attempt to slice at his mid-section. He easily jumped back. "Look fellas, I just wanted to ask if you knew a way out of here." He evaded two more sword strokes. "So much for diplomacy, Dad."

Dante tried to back away from them and head for the island with the sphere but they kept following him with a relentless stubbornness. It wasn't until after he managed to cross the bridge that they actually left him alone. They seemed to lose interest in him then, meandering back to their stations around their precious chest. He watched them for a few seconds, trying to make sense of something. He swore he sensed nothing at all from the group. Nothing human, nothing demonic, just plain nothing. It was as if they didn't even- No… there was something to them, but it wasn't any different from the air, or the grass underneath his feet. This wasn't making any sense at all. He shook his head as if that would clear his confusion and made for the sphere.

When the light and warmth faded for the third time from around his body, he was right back in the domed guild/cathedral. He was still trying to make sense of what he'd just witnessed back on the islands as he stepped forwards away from the floating orbs behind him. If this place wasn't an illusion, then why was it that those creatures seemed like they didn't even exist? Why did it seem as if they were one with nature? He grunted. "Not going to worry about that." Maybe if he kept exploring this strange world he might get some answers. Attempting to talk to the creatures wasn't going to do him any good. They'd just try relieving him of his legs.

He headed towards the double doors and pushed them open, stepping out into sunlight, forcing him to squint until his eyes adjusted. Before him was a set of stairs that went down towards a long brick laid path. It curved around the stairs towards the back of the domed building he'd just exited. It turned out they were just dead ends and the only real path was the road that led straight forwards from the stairs. To Dante's right, before the path went underneath a shadowy archway, there was another one of those green teleporting devices. He eyed it, wondering where it would take him. He decided for now just to head on down the road and see what lay ahead. In the shade of the archway were two potted plants on either side, a carving on the walls above them. The path went on, bridging across a body of water and then entering into a square where several booths encircled a water fountain. On the edges of the square were several tents, lean-tos with cloth for roofs, boxes piled up underneath most of them. There were two roads leading from the square, one to the right and then to the left. Crowds of people milled about of all shapes and sizes. Each of them had those tattoos and bizarre clothes he'd seen earlier inside the dome. Some of the people looked like animals on two feet, some were cat like, others giant gorillas, and still others, indescribable.

---'-- ~*~ --'---

All the members of G.U. were there waiting as Haseo and Atoli entered the room in which the Serpent of Lore was held. He'd been here a lot in the past. More often than not, it was because of something terrible that had happened. With each meeting they held here, it seemed like things got worse. But they all managed to pull through in the end, as half-hazard as their work had been. Well, everyone except his closest friend. He'd ended up in a coma. As a result, the room didn't exactly hold the best of memories for Haseo. But neither did The World, or his computer for that matter, for they all reminded him of what had happened. Haseo refused t o let it bother him too much, though. He had to find Ovan. He also had to try to do what he could for his friend's sister, Aina. She had blamed him for losing Ovan at first but she came around to forgiving him eventually. However, Haseo still felt a sense of responsibility for what had happened, even though he knew he had no real control over it. He couldn't stop thinking that maybe Aina had been right, that he could have at least tried to do something more to save her brother. He just couldn't give up the computer or The World for her sake, or for Ovan's sake.

Things had been going pretty well, considering. That was until there was a sudden outbreak of attacks and players were ending up in comas. They later learned the attacks were being orchestrated by what appeared to be a stray AI calling itself Soru. They knew next to nothing about it or what it seemed to want. The attacks were random at best and the few times they were able to actually see and attempt communication, Soru merely vanished. This was what had led them to think it was a program and not a real person. But the question was, who had created it? Or was it just another abnormality within the system that had only just now shown itself? They'd even theorized the possibility that it was remnants of Aida, the virus they'd fought and lost Ovan to; a virus that fed on people's emotions, amplifying them to dangerous levels until their bodies couldn't take it anymore and they ended up in comas. It seemed to fit.

Just as they felt like they were getting somewhere with this theory, people began to die. It was a real shock to them all and Haseo had yet to fully recover from it. If any one of them were to end up in a coma, he could very well lose them.

Permanently.

There's no way I'm going to let that happen, he swore to himself. Everyone's going to make it. I'll make damned sure of it!

Haseo looked around the dark room, noting the number of people gathered there. "This must be pretty big."

Yata nodded from his place at the Serpent of Lore's controls, which was nothing more than a floating ball. It was engraved with numerous circles, all of which were connected by an intricate web of lines. When activated, a touch screen would hover a couple of inches above it. Right now the ball remained passive, unused. The wall behind him was also engraved in the same manner as the ball, the design fanning out and eventually fading away into empty darkness. Right in the middle of the web was a large circle with the image of a snake eating its own tale, hence its name. Several inscriptions that were hard to make out encircled the golden creature.

Yata was frowning gravely, arms crossed over his chest. He meant business, as usual. "It's a delicate matter that I felt would be better explained face to face. I'd contacted Zelkova concerning this already but he said Atoli would be his ambassador in his place."

"Okay, so what's this about?"

"It's Fedchell. He's given us a prophecy," Pi said from Yata's side, then began quoting it for them.

"It is beyond midnight.  
Twilight passed hours ago.  
Night is in its dying throes.  
The young goddess of hope,  
Does search after the shadow's delight.  
But her eyes fall on things not yet awakened,  
And so to her sides her hands lay limply,  
Useless to call out.  
And so in the unknown she awaits,  
And she considers the scarred lands which she protects.

So often the past remains in the past,  
Though for many it is a driving force,  
Which takes everything forwards,  
Even when only fragments exist.  
Until the wanderer seeks the sleeper,  
And the shadow considers relinquishing its spell.  
Only then does the past threaten,  
Possibly colliding with the present.

But a more dire situation threatens,  
The broken land and its broken people.  
And the eight masters assembled,  
With their eight dark servants.  
As the wanderer became poisoned,  
By creatures from beyond the edge of the world.

Many have already fallen asleep,  
And many more have already fallen beyond sleep.  
But the heritance of a long gone ruler draws breath,  
In a place he doesn't belong,  
And at last the shadow finds its delight.  
As the stranger brings out his sword,  
Though his blood half poisoned,  
He certainly says and defends what he may.  
His presence alone marks the beginning of war's end,  
As the gateways to the world beyond break open.

The threatened balances fight to correct themselves,  
Beyond and within the world both.  
And so shall the war be fought,  
Against the wanderer who only questions,  
With a poisoned darkness within its heart.  
And many too shall greet its fate,  
With mixed emotions."

"We already know some of what the prophecy refers to. We can only assume that the eight masters and servants are us and our avatars, seeing as that's the most logical explanation. And of course the line talking about those who have fallen asleep are those who are in comas. And those who've fallen beyond sleep are the players who have died."

The others had begun talking, hashing over the prophecy and what it could possibly mean in its entirety. However, all their voices were lost to Haseo. His mind was stuck on three lines.

But the heritance of a long gone ruler draws breath,  
In a place he doesn't belong,  
And at last the shadow finds its delight.

Suddenly, it made sense in the most frightening way. "'The heritance'…." Haseo muttered softly. "He's a player named Demonslayer_999."

Everyone turned to look at Haseo.

"What was that?" Pi asked.

"It's got to be! I don't know who else it would be referring to!" he exclaimed more loudly than he'd intended.

"Whoa, calm down! How do you know that, Haseo?" Kuhn questioned. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"Well, I'm…" Haseo hesitated a moment. He didn't know as much as he just sensed it. Though a far more accurate answer would have been, he was putting pieces together without any real, solid evidence, except intuition. That hardly counted as evidence. "It's… what he said to me. He was muttering things about being drugged but when I told him he wasn't imagining things, and that he was in an online game he said he wasn't in front of a computer." And then there was the other piece of evidence… that Skeith was highly interested in Demonslayer. That had to mean the shadow the prophecy referred to was none other than Skeith. But this part he kept to himself. He'd never told the others what kind of connection he and Skeith had formed. It was a secret he found himself unwilling to part with, as if somewhere inside he wanted to keep it from everyone else just to spite them. Deep down he delighted in it. He also felt very guilty for it. Despite that guilt, he was still unwilling to tell them. So, instead, he put the rest of his evidence in another light. "And I think I'm the shadow because I've become really interested in the guy."

-Liar. Why don't you tell them the truth? I'm the shadow and you're just the- Skeith started but then changed his mind suddenly, laughing, shaking his head, finding something really funny. -You're… _definitely_ not the shadow.-

Haseo ignored him as best he could. "I mean think about it. Zelkova practically made my avatar and my character one, right? And the name Skeith. Well, it's old Scottish for shadow."

"It is plausible," Yata agreed.

"Then he might play an important role in the fight against Soru. I'll go find him and talk with him." Haseo turned and started to walk away.

"Haseo, wait," Atoli stepped forwards. "let us take care of that. You need to get some rest. You've been online none stop for the past few days. You haven't even gotten any sleep for seventy-two hours, have you?"

Haseo drew up short. How'd she known that? Never mind the being online part, how had she'd known he hadn't slept in the last three days?!

-Think, stupid. It's not that difficult to figure out.-

"There's been a lot of activity in the forums. You've been pretty busy. Working tirelessly, trying to warn as many people as possible to leave The World until the danger has passed," Yata said, answering Haseo's question for him.

Of course. Timestamps. In the forums there would be a blatant record of how little sleep he'd actually been getting. And then of course there was the Serpent of Lore. It was a program that oversaw all activity within the game. Only players with administrative powers given to them by CC Corp could operate it. The forums and the Serpent of Lore together probably gave Yata an idea of what he'd been doing as of late.

"We need to do whatever we can to fight this."

"Yes, well, running ourselves ragged doesn't do us any favors." Yata reprimanded. "We need clear heads if we're going to do anyone any good. Sleep deprivation only makes the brain sluggish."

"But-" Haseo started.

A soft, velvety voice interrupted him. "He's right, Haseo. It would be better if you got some sleep."

"Endrance?"

"Go rest up, buddy," Kuhn assured, Haseo looking his way when he'd spoken. "We'll track down this Demonslayer person for ya."

Haseo looked around at the others before he sighed, giving in. He didn't feel like fighting them, not when it looked like they were all going to gang up on him like this. And he _was_ tired. "Alright."

The group watched him as he left. "He seems possessed. Something is eating at his heart…" Endrance said softly.

Atoli drew her hands to her chest and lowered her gaze. "Things are different from the first time we worked together. Before, it was just the risk of death. But now, people have actually died."

It was a frightening fact.

---'-- ~*~ --'---

Ryou Misaki, the player behind the character Haseo, watched as his computer logged off of The World. Still his hand refused to move the mouse down to the lower left corner of his monitor in order to power down the machine. He sat there for a silent moment, eyes staring vacantly. Despite how tired he really was, he couldn't help himself. He double-clicked the quick link on his desktop that took him immediately to an up-to-date news website. He had to know what was going on in the outside world, though he knew it wouldn't do him or his conscience any good. Probably not his dreams either. But he had to know.

He leaned forwards as he scrolled through the tabs at the top of the page, on the lookout for any tiny alert signs that flashed a yellow 'new', hoping to catch something he hadn't read since the last time he'd been on. And there was; the second tab in, labeled Nation. He immediately went to it and narrowed in on the article on the page, clicking the link.

What he read caused his heart to lurch and chest to constrict in disbelief. Slowly, rage began to build within him, eyes becoming engulfed in the shadows of his bangs, fingers curling around the mouse, teeth gritting. He wasn't aware of it, but he was visibly quivering, he was so angry. How could people be so stupid?! They'd say anything to cover their butts. They'd say anything to keep a few bucks in their pockets.

"People's lives are at stake…" he whispered, voice shaking with barely contained anger. Ryou glared at the screen, shouting, "And all you morons can think about is your pocketbooks!?"

The article remained on the screen without any response, still spewing its lies about the conditions of the players who'd died while playing The World. A rare but not unheard of heart condition was the reason behind their deaths, allowing CC Corp to free itself of any responsibility. The World would remain online. The obsessive ranting of a player claiming the game to be unsafe was nothing more than a scared kid with an overly active imagination. Those with any heart conditions in which over exertion could cause health risks were reminded not to play for longer than an hour. And then the matter was brought to a close. Just like that. They were able to package and label the problem so neatly and stow it away as if it was really nothing to be concerned about.

It pissed Ryou off.

It also drained him of any remaining energy he had, leaving him extremely tired. He slumped back into his chair, bowing his head, face contorted as he fought off the wave of tears that suddenly threatened to spill. People were dying and he was being written off as 'overly imaginative'. No one was listening to his warnings. People were going to continue playing in ignorance to the danger they were in. More were going to die. Ryou couldn't live with himself if that happened. He just couldn't.

-Yata was right, you know. You should get some sleep. You're no good to anyone like this.- Skeith sounded so serious, his voice lacking his usual arrogance. It helped Ryou pull himself together.

"You're right." He looked up at the monitor one last time, sighing before shutting everything down and consigning himself to his bed without bothering to undress.

He fell into a deep sleep and never noticed the consciousness of Skeith as the avatar took command of his body. Skeith rose and walked to the computer, turning it back on and logging into The World. "Don't worry, Master Haseo. I'll continue your work."

---'-- ~*~ --'---

Dante took to wandering the streets, looking for any and every way out of the city. He did find several more of those glowing orbs he'd seen at the steps of the domed building but after trying them, he discovered they only took him to different parts of Mac Anu, not out of it. So he pretty much gave up on those. None of the doors that were unlocked led to any place either, except several rather strange rooms where more of those faceless creatures like the ones at the guild/cathedral apparently resided or worked. He noticed right away that like the goblins, he sensed nothing human or demonic about them but they seemed more apt to talk than attack. However, he soon learned that talking to them did him no good. They just spoke gibberish that made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever. Oh they spoke English, but things like chimchims and lucky animals meant nothing to him. They didn't seem very interested in explaining them to him either so he just muttered, "Forget this," and left.

Talking to the people that wandered the streets proved to be just as fruitless. He got a lot of weird looks, and some rather rude remarks from a few. There was the occasional, helpful person though who kindly walked him through how to save and then log off. But when he explained that he wasn't in front of a computer, the person shut up mighty quick and moved on as if he were the plague, or else just laughed at him and said if he followed their instructions then he'd be just fine.

He was just about to give up all together when he came across the docks. Relief flooded his insides, having had enough of this city and its oddities. Dante headed straight down but found that the only boat he really had access to was the big ship. The small row boats tied to the docks in several areas seemed impossible to get at. He felt some force pressing against him whenever he tried to step off into one of them. He pressed back but no amount of strength gave him any leeway and he was forced to head for the ship.

A faceless creature wearing a captain's uniform and white beard stood vigilantly aboard the vessel, waiting, apparently, for passengers. Remembering his past dealings with these creatures, Dante wasn't so sure he was going to get very far with this. But he'd be damned if he didn't try. He was tired of being played with. Being trapped in this weird city and its citizens was not his idea of a good time. Though, on a side note, he did have to admit, there were some beautiful women meandering the streets. This he thought when he spotted one particularly sexy woman go to sit at the edge of the dock. His expression darkened slightly when something occurred to him. Some things about this place were too good to be true. It was almost like she was some kind of distraction sent especially for him. He scoffed, "Oh come on! Seriously. Come up with something a little more original why don't you? You'll have to try harder than that if you want to keep me here." He was already suspicious about his situation from his lack of progress. It was almost as if he was purposefully trapped here. It was beyond obvious. In fact, the whole state of affairs stunk of it. The sudden appearance of the woman all but told him that. It was about time he broke free of his city prison.

So he stepped up to the captain, all hopes riding on this final conversation. If this didn't get him what he wanted, he was going to be beyond pissed, his patience already stretched to the breaking point. He wasn't known for patience and the fact that he'd actually hung on this long without taking it out on something was a true testament that maybe he had more depth to him than was originally thought.

"Hey there, how about getting me off of this hunk of rock?"

"Sorry, this ship won't be sailing until the next Emperor is crowned."

"And when's that supposed to be?"

"Sorry, this ship won't-" Dante tuned out the rest of what he said. I should've known, this guy's just like the others.

"Dammit, can't I catch a break here?" he cried to no one in particular. He turned back to the captain, "All I want is to get out of this stinking city," he growled softly, getting a little more than peeved. He was beginning to wonder if these faceless people were all just simple minded, because they kept repeating the same words to him over and over. Then again, said a voice in the back of his head, maybe he really was stuck in some virtual world.

"Sir Demonslayer." A man stepped up behind him, bowing slightly. "You won't be able to leave Mac Anu on this boat, I'm afraid."

Dante eyed the newcomer. He was a purple-eyes, dark ash skinned man with a slightly lighter face. Dark tattoos of jagged lines, converging into one another in places ran over his face from his cheeks and up, where they disappeared into his hairline. Or at least Dante speculated that they did because the man's hair was covered by a large, brightly colored cowl. He wore no shirt but a huge necklace with an intricate design hung from around his neck. For some odd reason Dante got an image in his head of the man flipping it over and using it as a chalkboard to write messages on it. A golden band wrapped around his neck, a matching pair around both wrists. His pants were a simple deep purple color, secured around his waist with a thin, golden belt etched into the pants with designs resembling his necklace. The ankles of the pants were tied close to his body by strips of cloth, making them flair out a bit. His feet were covered by simple kung fu shoes. All in all, the man looked quite bizarre.

"I suggest you go the Chaos Gate, the portal you used before from inside the dome where the two strange creatures watch over their shops." The man motioned back to the street where Dante had come down from earlier. "As you activate it, think of the words Delta Secret Engaging Phantom. I promise it'll be worth your while to go there."

With that said, the man turned to walk away. "Hey, wait a second," Dante started but the other kept going, soon vanishing in the crowds wandering the streets. He tried to follow; unfortunately the man seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Tracking him soon proved to be useless. "Delta Secret Engaging Phantom, huh?" Dante sighed, almost a scoff. "Well, I'm out of all other options." He really didn't have any excuses not to go. "I just hope that guy isn't yanking my chain."

Author's Note: Where'd the farm idea come from? Um… not a clue. It just popped into my head. But it worked perfectly for the stuff I wanted to portray; which was mostly the respect the two boys had for their father even though they themselves didn't quite find the same enjoyment in working on the farm as he did.

I'm sorry this took me longer to get written than the first chapter. Longer than I had planned. I'd gone to Yellowstone National Park and so that cut out a lot of writing time. Though the trip did give me a good idea as to where to have Sparda's family live and the type of farm they have. You'll learn more on this in the next chapter. I pushed Dante's fight scene back once more. I was going to put it in this chapter but this one was taking so long to write I decided to put it off again.

I do have pics of Dante's Demonslayer character. I haven't fully decided which version I'm going to use yet so I've held off on describing him. Go to my profile for the links and you guys can tell me which you like the best, or what parts of the diff versions that you like the best.

To Saphira – Concerning their eye colors… With Haseo, I believe they actually change when he gets his Xth form. I thought they stayed red as well, but then I looked at some pictures more closely and I realized they were actually gold. I think they changed his colors (clothes and eyes) as a symbolic type thing, to show he'd accepted and overcame his darker side. That's totally my translation for the color change though, lol. As for Dante… well, I've got two things to say about his eyes. In the first game, there was a scene where his eyes appeared green, but then in other games his eyes are blue. He's kinda like Duo from Gundam Wing. They can't seem to decide what color their eyes are. The other thing is, Demonslayer is his online self. If I wanted to, I could've had his eyes be purple, you know what I mean? His real self will have blue eyes, which turn a little green sometimes if he's sad or angry. I've decided to have them able to change like that because you gave me the idea when trying to correct me. Thanks though for doing it. I greatly appreciate it when people point out mistakes. How else am I supposed to improve? Right?

To SageofAges – Giving authors ideas… Yes, always a dangerous thing that. And thanks for the continued reviews. Writing can be a nerve wrecking experience as much as it is a thrill. You always worry if you'll confuse your readers or bore them, so it's a delicate balance when it comes to descriptions or, well any part of it really.

To Vanster X – Thanks for the review and fav! As for why I've got this set in that particular timeframe within the DMC universe? I really don't know. Originally I just had a voice in the back of my head that said, do it here, so I went with it. Gradually, as I've written this some reasons have formed. One, it's the maturity at which Dante has reached during this period of his life. Second, I didn't want him to be too much older than Haseo. Why that second one matters, dunno, just didn't want him too much older.


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